


Saffron Silk and Deep Blue Cotton

by silvertiffany (diedominas1981)



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Body Worship, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Eventual Smut, Feminization, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Tucking, except this time theyre BOTH in a dress. how novel., public crossdressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:34:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diedominas1981/pseuds/silvertiffany
Summary: "You're telling me you want to go out in public like this?" Francis' cheeks reddened under his rouge."Of course! We didn't put all this on to just ogle at each other. Besides, what's so odd about a girl and her mother going to the shops?""Her mother?!" Francis roared "Oh, I'll skin you for that."**In which James and Francis are BOTH in dresses. Contains gratuitous lengthy description of the 1850’s lady's dressing process, followed by a fluffy afternoon out on the town, ended by some smut between two men in silks.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Saffron Silk and Deep Blue Cotton

**Author's Note:**

> I hope its becoming clear that I'm that one weird feminization gal. I cant help it, its my thing.
> 
> *skip to chapter 3 if you just want the smut* (if its out yet((lol)))  
> We've all seen James in the dress time and time again but what if. This time. They're BOTH in a dress. Not even just in a dress- the whole shebang. Gratuitous lengthy description of the 1850’s dressing process. Contains some very brief canon typical descriptions of the aftermath of their survival. Nothing graphic, James just has false teeth and there is a short flashback to his healing process.

Francis could never again experience a ‘quiet morning.’ He knew quiet- the sound of wind scraping across shale, the pierce of the blinding sun and the smell of men dying. Now, the sounds of distant street bustle and carriages and the smell of his own tea overtook Francis every time he sat to admire it. He and James both had their own households, their places to fit into the elaborate theatre of their strange modern lives. But here in a plain, unassuming apartment the both of them paid for, they could truly live together. Devoid of paintings documenting their heroisms and endless visitors and businesses- just a little space that Francis and James could disappear. 

Speaking of. Francis hadn’t noticed James' absence until he heard the door open downstairs. He assumed James had woken before him and was busying himself elsewhere before joining Francis for tea. 

“Francis!” James called. Francis heard the sound of trunks bumping against the stairs as James ascended. “I’ve got a present you’re going to hate.”

“Oh?” Francis responded, smiling to himself. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Francis felt a warm peace in his heart when James teased him. The fact that James trusted Francis enough, loved him enough to poke at him felt very reassuring. There were times when James seemed more hollow and wounded, like he’d begin to shrink back into the James he once was, confiding in attention from others because he was too scared to love himself. But recently, there was a warmth to the both of them that made Francis feel as if there was hope after all.

The door to their bedroom pushed open, and James stepped in out of breath, having hauled two large decorative chests up the narrow stairs.

“Good lord, James. I could’ve helped you.”

James wheezed out a laugh. “There's another downstairs. I’ll retrieve it later.” 

James rested his top hat on the bed before joining Francis at the little table near their window. Francis had already set out his tea. 

He sat and carefully removed his false teeth, setting them delicately on his napkin. Francis somewhat missed his old crooked smile, but he was infinitely more grateful that James had any teeth at all.

That was the hardest part of their recovery for sure. Caring for James after being told they’d have to remove most of his teeth, being at his side day and night to feed him soft foods and help him through the unimaginable pain. He couldn’t even speak, just wail out open cries when his mouth would start to bleed. When James first smiled with his fitted ivory teeth, Francis nearly fainted. James sipped gingerly at his tea.

“Could I go look?” Francis asked, peering at the trunks near the door. James nodded, covering his mouth with his hand.

“Blue one.” he lisped.

Francis rested the blue trunk on the mattress and clicked open the clasps. Folded on top was a deep blue dress, made of soft cotton and decorated with tiny yellow flowers. It was an unusual addition to James’s dress collection- he loved his silks, frills and bows. But this day dress had a simple beauty to it that made Francis smile.

“Oh, why do you think I’d hate this?” He gently lifted the dress from the trunk, holding it up by the shoulders. It seemed a little larger than his other dresses… “This’ll look lovely on you, I’m sure.”   
“Oh.” James said, suddenly grabbing for his teeth. Francis laid the dress out on the sheets. Underneath it was a brilliant silk the color of saffron, and underneath that a handful of typical thin linen underclothes, the kind of things Francis loved to feel under his lover’s skirt as he ran his hands up his warm thighs.

“They aren’t for me.” James broke Francis’s thoughts. He looked up at James with his brows furrowed. “Blue’s not my color. It's for you!”

His face went limp. Ah. That's why he’d hate it. James bit at his lip as he tried to hold back a mischievous smile. 

“I’ve sort of guessed at a few size details. I figured I’d better go simple if I were to surprise you.” 

Francis felt his heart pounding in his ears.

“Wh- You had this  _ made  _ for me?” Francis didn’t know if he sounded angry or just confused. He didn’t really know what he was feeling at the moment. 

“Well of course! That’s how you get a dress.” The thought of James conversing with a dressmaker made Francis pale.  _ ‘No, this time I want something different. You see, There's this fat old man in my life that I love to torment. Which color do you think would embarrass him the most?’ _

“I thought we’d have some fun today. It’s always you that gets to admire me in silks and bows, and I wanted to turn things around.”

Francis was stammering- he had no idea how to respond. The image in his head of his body hopelessly stuffed into the little blue dress was absolutely humiliating. 

“Francis, I promise. I promise the second you say no, I will stop. And even if you say yes, all you’ve got to do is let me see you in full dress. The second It's all on, just let me call you gorgeous once, and then you’re free to rip it all off.” 

“James,” Francis’s voice dropped to a loving purr- perhaps a sweeter tone will make his pleas seem more sincere “I’ve hardly the figure. I-i’ll just look ridiculous-”   
“Oh, Francis. No one has the figure.” James interrupted. He sat up from the table at the window and stepped up to Francis, taking the saffron silk in his hands. “No, I’m going to crush your stomach and stuff your hips like every other proper lady.”

“In fact,” James laid his large hands on Francis’s undershirt, pushing up the fat on his chest. “I’d say you've got a better figure than me, look at these tits!”

Francis looked down at his freckled chest, pushed together to create a strange pair of small breasts, covered in red-silver curls. Francis’s face was bright pink at this point.

“I’d love to bury my face in these already. I’ll have to shave you first, of course.” Francis’s eyes went wide.

“Alright, this is getting out of hand!” He protested, pushing away James’s hands.

“Tell me no, then.” James leaned in close to Francis’s face. “That's all you've got to do.”

The word was trapped on Francis’s tongue. He wanted to spit it out, say no and go back to their quiet morning. Another boring… peaceful morning. He rolled his eyes and blew out of his nose.

“Fine. but yer not shaving nothing else! No plucking or waxing neither. And I’m taking you up on your promise as well. That is, If I don't just burst out of the bloody seams on my own.”

James' eyes crinkled as he gave a satisfied smile. “Good girl.” He patted Francis on the shoulders and headed for the door.

“Now, Miss Crozier… Your crinoline is in the trunk downstairs. It will remain there, but I've got some more bits for you. Do get your shift and your bloomers on so we can proceed.” 

Francis blushed at his words. Good lord, what did he just get himself into. He looked down at the chest, laying out every little piece of linen and cotton. He didn’t even know what a shift or a crinoline was.

He slipped into the delicate linen bits, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he stuffed the length of the shift into his bloomers. He didn’t see how this could possibly end well. Sitting there awkwardly in womens underwear, his belly pulling the frilly linen taut around the middle. He felt like some kind of dirty pervert, not at all as graceful and breathtaking as James looked. Heat swelled in his chest at the sight of the corseted bodice laying in the bottom of the trunk. It was shell pink with wide shoulder straps. He loosened the lace at the back and slipped it over his body, settling into the shoulders. 

Just then, the door opened once more. James dragged in a smaller bag.

“Ah! Lets not get ahead of ourselves.” James went for the second chest in the room.

“You silly girl. So excited to be corseted you forgot your petticoat.” James’s words went straight to Francis’s cock. He was surprised at how much he loved being chided. 

“Well, your first petticoat that is. Oh dear-” James stopped, pulling out a small cotton garment out of the trunk. “Yes, I forgot. We’ll have to take care of something first.” 

He stepped over to Francis with a very small pair of underwear in hand. His voice dropped to a whisper

“This is one of those times you might feel like backing out, Francis. I'm warning you.”

“ _ Now _ you warn me.” Francis shook his head. Part of him felt strangely giddy, this whole situation was so bizarre that Francis didn’t even know if he wanted to believe it.

“You want to commit to being a proper lady, do you?” James went back into character. “Then what’s all this you've got hanging from you?” James playfully grabbed at Francis’s bulge. Francis pressed his thighs together in defense.

“We’ve got to do away with your cock and stones, miss Crozier. This simply will not do.”

“What?” Francis was genuinely confused. Surely he wasn't going to- no, he wouldn't. 

“Have you ever tucked before, Francis?” James asked him, fully knowing the answer.

“Doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

“Quite the contrary, it's a delightful feeling. I’m going to lay you on your back and push your balls up into your body and pull you back- The panties keep you nice and tucked. It gives you a lovely tight cunt.” James gave a pat to his own crotch. 

Francis felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had too many questions and all of them made him more confused. He was coming to the dreadful conclusion that he just might enjoy this. 

He removed the corset and did as James instructed, laying down on top of the sheets. James tugged his bloomers off and propped Francis’s legs over his shoulders. 

“Full honesty, Francis. This is going to feel very strange.” 

“Just do it!” Francis hissed. His heart was fully pounding now, his body alive with nerves.

He cried out as James pressed his thumbs against Francis’s balls, pushing them gently into his abdomen. It wasn’t a pained sound- Francis just had no idea this could even happen. James' hands were skilled and delicate. My god, he’s done this before. Many times before. Francis wondered how many times James had tucked around him without even knowing. Perhaps even in their bitter days, Francis was barking at James without even knowing he sat there wearing tight little women's underwear under his commanding garb, his cock stuffed away inside him. 

James took his shaft in hand and pulled it back, causing Francis’s thighs to twitch. He was used to the feeling of James handling his cock, but not in this strange, sexual-but-not way. He quickly slipped the tight garment over Francis’s legs and lifted his hips to secure it in place. The waistband dug a little into Francis’s hips.

“There we go.” James cooed, rubbing his now bizarrely smooth groin. “Isn’t that better?”

Francis sat up and looked down to his legs. The sight made his heart leap- He really looked like a woman. His groin joined his legs in nothing but a delicate v.

“No ones even going to see this.” Francis said, bewildered. 

“No one. They won't see your corset or your crinoline either. These are just for you to feel pretty, Miss Crozier.” James had retrieved Francis’s razor while he sat admiring James’s work. James opened the button on his shift and pushed the soapy brush across the hairy bits of his chest.   
“I… I do feel pretty.” 

“Don't get ahead of yourself, you’re still just a man in bloomers now. We’ll see how you feel after you're corseted.”

Francis laughed. “This is. Very silly.” James smiled as he gently shaved away his chest hair, wiping the cream off onto a rag. 

“Thank you for letting me do this. To be honest I thought your stubbornness would never see this through.” James’s voice was sincere. He looked into Francis's eyes as he wiped away the rest of the shaving cream.

“Believe me, it wants to. But more of me wants to see you happy, James.” Francis went to rub at James’s shoulder.

“I hope you know I’ll be dressing as well. I... Was just going to have you dressed but I’ve decided I’m not going to let you have all the fun.”

“We’ll have tea together as proper little ladies.” Francis grinned.

“Right. Let's get to it then!” 

\--

This was the part that Francis was dreading the most. They had hassled on the rest of Francis’s undergarments and here he sat, hands braced against the wall and James holding the laces on his corset like the reins of a horse. 

“Ready?”

“Ready..”

The first pull wasn’t bad. Francis had actually worn a sort of bodice before, one to shape down his body just a hair so he looked a little more presentable for whatever ostentatious event he was dragged to. As his waist tightened, Francis’s breath began to shorten. With each pull Francis thought it would surely be the last, the laces creaking louder with every interval. His shoulders jumped as he felt James’s boot against the top of his back. Francis grit his teeth.

“Brace for it old boy, here's the big one.” James gathered the lace in his hands and pulled out as hard as he could, shrinking Francis’s waist until he was sure to pinch in half. He removed his boot and quickly tied the laces, landing heavy pats on Francis’s sudden hips. 

Francis gasped aloud at the sight of himself in the mirror. He certainly felt unnaturally small, but the mirror showed delightfully natural looking curves over his new body. 

“You aren’t as trained as I am.” James said, running his hands over Francis’s thinner waist. “Which only means you look like a plain woman and not some London whore.” 

“Jesus..” Francis muttered, running his hands over his body. The bodice did push up the flesh on his chest, gathering in the fold of his shift. Underneath the constricting tightness he felt.. Girly. Now he was beginning to see the appeal, the true appeal that James felt.

“We’ll have to continue downstairs, Miss Crozier. Your crinoline is quite the feat.”


End file.
